Seven Days in June

by Tia Williams

“Noooooooo, Mommy! Tell me you didn’t! Oh, I feel terrible! You’re right, I’m the worst daughter.” “What are you talking about?” Eva was flabbergasted by Audre’s sudden hysteria. “I know there are no bounds to maternal love. I mean, hello? I read Mommy Burnout!” “Who hasn’t?” said Eva, who hadn’t. “Audre, what do you think I did?” “You…you…seduced that man, to keep me in school, didn’t you? You had sex with him for me. And I’ll never forgive myself!”

Ken always called her nosy, and while she pretended to be offended by it, she was nosy. And nosy women bristled at being left out of gossip. It made them irritable and prone to risky decisions made out of sheer desperation.

BANG! Ken’s been a wonderful husband. But five more minutes of this and I poison his LaCroix.

“Ken. You. Are. Killing. Me.” Dashing Ken, a.k.a. Billy Dee Williams Lite, pushed his glasses up his nose and asked, “Do the legs look even to you?” With an extravagant exhale, she smoothed her dress and crouched down next to him. “Almost there.” “Good,” he said, and continued to hammer away. “Sweetheart, I’m going to hear that banging in hell.” “You’re not going to hell,” Ken muttered, a screw jutting out from between his lips. “Oh please. I own real estate down there,”

Just then, Ken chuckled at her from where he was sitting on their pristine amber-wood-paneled floor. “What’s funny?” she asked. “You’re plotting, Celia. I can tell.” “I’m not plotting; I’m planning.” He snickered to himself, the same screw sticking out of his mouth. “My nosy girl.” Cece grinned. She was nosy, and she was his girl. Both were true, for better or for worse.

Like when Spotify plays a song you haven’t heard since childhood, and it reminds you who you are. Like “Oh yeah, I’m a person who knows all the words to Will Smith’s ‘Wild Wild West.’”

“Oh. Okay, but since when are you an emcee? You’ve never mentioned rap.” “My shit’s flames.” “Interesting. Ty, what’s your rap name?” “Undecided.” “Undecided is your name?” “Nah, my name’s undecided.” “Don’t take this the wrong way,” started Shane, with caution. “But the fact that you don’t even have a rap name makes me question your sincerity. Every Black male invents a fake rap name by third grade.”

“My God. You’re Ta-Nehisi Coates!” “Nah. But he’d appreciate that you pronounced his name right,” he said, downing the last of his water. “I learned the hard way.”

“Well,” he said, cracking his knuckles, “I’m gonna go. Let you finish hexing me in book fifteen.” “Oh, that reminds me,” started Eva hesitantly. “I need your opinion. How would you feel if Sebastian were white?” “That’s one hell of a hex.” “No, I’m serious. Cursed is going to be a movie. Which is so exciting. But the director wants to make Sebastian and Gia white. You know, mainstream appeal.” Shane couldn’t help but laugh. “Me? White? Nah, stop playing.”

Deceased plants are good luck. When a houseplant dies, it’s because it’s absorbed bad energy and juju.

“You’re the worst. Fuck me. Please. Fuck me on James Baldwin’s bed.” Shane laughed. “This isn’t James Baldwin’s bed. You think they had Sleep Number beds in 1961?” “Oh.” She grabbed at his arms. “Well, then fuck me on this Sleep Number bed.”

LMAO WHAT

“Just say it,” Eva said with a smile. “I’ve never said it. To anyone.” “It won’t hurt, I promise.” Shane grinned, a heart-stopping thing. Then laid his face on her breasts, closing his eyes. “Ready?” he asked. “Ready.” “I love you,” said Shane. “Dramatically, violently, and forever.” She kissed the top of his head, smiling brighter than the sun. “I’ve always loved you,” he whispered. “What a coincidence,” she whispered back. “I’ve always loved you, too.”

“I want to be the thought that lulls you to sleep. The memory that gets you off. I wanna be where all your paths end.” He nipped her earlobe. “I wanna do everything you do to me.”

“You know you’re the turtle, right? The one who comes and goes as he pleases while I wait for you?”

I get one slice of dick and turn into a wide-eyed Disney

“On the low-low,” started the designer, “ever since I started dating unattractive men, I’ve been thriving.” “Where do you find them?” “Atlantic Center on a weeknight. Between the DMV, Applebee’s, and Home Depot? Bitch, you’ll leave with a main and a side.”

“Khalil. Why’re you wearing a green shirt with pink pants?” asked his ex, a snarky screenwriter. “You an AKA? A tube of Maybelline Great Lash?”

LMAO

Shane chewed his bottom lip. “Like the time I saw a dead dude come back to life? I used to drive a hearse to funerals, and one time, this corpse sat straight up. Burst his coffin wide open. Yo, I hollered till I was hoarse. I found out later he had a degenerative spine disease that made him fold up. The undertaker had forgotten to tie him to a splint. You know, to keep his spine straight.” Eva and Cece looked stricken. “Don’t talk,” advised Eva. “Just pretend you’re on a call.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go home and feed my two kittens, Growth and Metamorphosis.”

“Religion?” “Religion. Hmm. I guess it’s like fire. In good hands, fire can be used to do positive things, like keep you warm. Make s’mores. In bad hands, it can burn a witch at the stake. Lynch a Black body.” He shrugged. “When used for good, religion’s cool.” “Well put. Trans ban?” “Barbaric.” “Homelessness?” “Been there. No clue how to fix it.” “Fair. Do you recognize the national anthem?” “As what, a marketing scam?” Shane shook his head. “Miles Davis said there are two categories of thinking: the truth and white bullshit. The national anthem is white bullshit.”

“Yeah? But that sounds like a special thing for just you and your mom.” “It is. But you are, too.” “You think I’m special?” Shane’s face got hot, a tingling rush of warmth spreading all over him. His hands trembled. What the hell was happening? This is that family feeling, he thought. Of total acceptance, belonging to people. A connection that eclipsed everything.

“A tree grows its branches out until it touches the tips of the next closest tree. And they’re linked forever. Because if they’re really close, their roots grow together. They’re so intertwined underneath that no matter what happens above ground, they stay connected.”

“Can I ask you something? Was I hard to live with?” “Nooo,” said Troy, without taking a moment to think about it. “I just wasn’t ready. You’re complicated, you know? I thought you were a problem that needed solving. But you don’t need solving. You need understanding. I was too young and too scared to figure that out.” After a lengthy silence, she curled up into a ball. “Thank you for that, Troy.” “So. Does he make you laugh? Really laugh?” “He does, actually.” “I’ve always wondered if there was someone who’d do that for you. When we were together, I felt like someone else had stolen all your smiles before me.”

awh :/

SHANE: There once was a girl named Eva I liked her the moment I see’d her Wish I could live in her dimple If only life were that simple I was a fool to ever leave her There once was a boy named Shane Who’d kill to ease her pain If only he could change the past If only this poem didn’t suck ass But Eva has only herself to blame

Oh, when you talk to him, tell him that my stepmom, Athena, had a dermoid. When the doctors removed the cyst, it had a fingernail in it.”

“Hi. My name is Shane, and I’m an alcoholic—and a drug addict sometimes. I don’t want to be here, but a little girl told me I needed to talk about my problems, and honestly, she’s only twelve but she’s really fucking…astute. So. I guess I’m here now. Or whatever. Yeah, so th-thanks for having me.” He paused. “You’re a great-looking crowd.”

The day he’d moved in, Eva had sent Shane five huge dracaena plants from IKEA. “For your protection,” the note said. Shane had no idea what this meant, but he watered those plants religiously. He even faced them toward the sun, to optimize the photosynthesis. But one by one, like clockwork, they died. Shane didn’t have the heart to throw them out, though. They were from her. He did notice a funny thing, though. He was surrounded by deceased flora—but he felt better than ever.

“Well, if you needed me,” said Shane, “I’d come.”

this is making me hate myself

Maybe they’d always be disasters—but couldn’t they support each other and grow together? No one was perfect! And maybe that was what real, adult love was. Being fearless enough to hold each other close no matter how catastrophic the world became. Loving each other with enough ferocity to quell the fears of the past. Just fucking being there.

fawkkkkkkk i literally just want TO CRY

The night stilled around them as they settled into the realization that they were alone together. After wanting it so badly. Eva took the gardenia still in her hand and waved it under her nose. She wanted to have a scent to accompany this memory.

“Would you have asked me to come to Louisiana?” asked Shane. “Yes.” Eva’s gaze caught his. “Would you have come?” “I had a bag packed. I was just waiting for the word.”

“It never ends, does it? Loving you never ends. Whether you’re Genevieve or Eva. Whether I lose you for years or wake up to your face every morning. I love you. You’re my home. And I want you forever.”

They kissed, and they restarted, right where they stood.